The Saiyan In The Cultivation World.

In the blink of an eye, six months had passed, and I celebrated my sixth birthday. It was no ordinary party; people from across the continent filled the grand hall, drawn by the allure of the event and the promise of seeing a prodigy. Clad in a pristine white suit, I stood out not just for my attire but for the ethereal beauty that seemed almost a birthright in our Cultivation world. Every breakthrough in cultivation not only boosted our abilities but also our aesthetic appeal, it was rare to find a plain cultivator, let alone an ugly one. 

Yet, despite the opulence and the sea of admirers, I was enveloped in boredom. My recent advancement to Level 1 of Body Tempering had only increased the expectations placed upon me. As the murmurs of my potential filled the air, a voice cut through the monotony.

"I want to challenge you to a duel. We've both had a year to cultivate," Zhou Yu declared, her tone serious, capturing the attention of the surrounding crowd. Her challenge seemed to ripple through the sea of bodies, turning heads and drawing whispers.

I responded with a lightness that belied my annoyance. "Nope, Zhou Yu, unlike you my interest lies more with alchemy than mere physical contest."

The crowd seemed to pause at my words, unsure how to react, and Zhou Yu's expression flickered with uncertainty. She glanced towards her elder half-brothers, the architects of her challenge, seeking guidance on what to do next.

"But with your talents..." she started, only to be interrupted.

"Such a cowardly prince! Is this the unmatched talent of the Zhou Empire?" sneered a voice from behind. A seven-year-old boy stepped forward, his expression one of disdain. "I, Bai Qian, challenge you, Zhou Lianchen!"

I looked at him briefly, my expression one of mild confusion mixed with amusement. "Bi? You're bisexual... and beautiful?" The hall fell into an awkward silence. In our language, 'Qian' was synonymous with beauty.

The boy's face reddened, not fully grasping the implication but feeling the weight of the laughter that followed. "Is there a strange reason behind this duel? Names do play an influence on one's character, after all. So, what are you really after?" I asked, my tone laced with mockery.

Humiliated, Bai Qian burst into tears, unable to bear being the butt of the joke, and retreated to his master, who looked equally embarrassed.

Amidst the unfolding drama, a red-haired man from the Blazing Hou Empire bellowed with laughter. "Emperor Zhou, you have quite the son! My daughter here is also six years old. Perhaps they should spar instead. Afterward, we might discuss a future alliance."

The room turned to my father, who regarded me with a questioning gaze. His inquiry to them was more of a formality than a question. "What do you think, Lianchen?"

"Sure, but after I'm out of here," I replied coolly, my indifference unshaken by the proceedings. My father nodded, signaling the commencement of the duel between the children.

As I stepped aside, my gaze met the red-haired girl's unyielding stare. Something was captivating about her defiance, a stark contrast to the fawning masses. 

"I'm Hou Yan," the redhead declared, her gaze fixating peculiarly on my tail. Despite her youth, her demeanor was far from that of a typical six-year-old; in this world, individuals matured rapidly, achieving full growth well before their seventeenth year.

"The pleasure is mine," I responded with a measured nod, my eyes casually tracing her form. The attention she and her father paid to my tail stirred a flicker of curiosity within me.

"Are you going to use a weapon?" Hou Yan inquired, her hand drawing a slender sword from its sheath. My initial reaction was one of surprise, swiftly morphing into amusement.

"I've never used a weapon before... unless my body counts," I mused aloud. "But there's a first time for everything. Hand me a sword."

A sword was promptly brought to me, and I took it with a casualness that drew frowns from the sword masters in the audience. My unconventional handling of the blade, swinging it carelessly, even testing its balance with punches, only deepened their disdain.

"This is more of a cutting instrument than a blunt weapon," I remarked, the blade slicing the air as a nascent aura began to shimmer along its edge. The murmurs in the crowd turned to gasps as the aura strengthened, unmistakably the beginnings of a sword's aura, or Sword Intent, a rare phenomenon that significantly amplified a sword's cutting power.

"Interesting," I noted nonchalantly as I experimented with the aura, twisting and turning the sword. My playful manipulation seemed to enhance my understanding and control, and my mastery of Sword Intent escalated rapidly. Within moments, I could cut through any solid that lacked the resistance to this intent. The room watched in stunned silence, their shock escalating as my connection with the sword deepened.

"This sword... it feels alive," I said, almost to myself. The statement sent a ripple through the hall, as everyone grasped the implication of my words. Before anyone could react, a chorus of metallic cries filled the air, every sword in the vicinity responding to the awakening of the Sword's Will within me.

I tuned into the chorus, initially struggling but quickly adapting, understanding the unique voices of the blades. "So, this is called Sword's Will," I acknowledged, nodding appreciatively at the sword in my hand, which seemed to thrum with joy at my recognition.

As I delved deeper into this newfound connection, a thought struck me, inspired by tales I had seen in anime... could my own body serve as a sword? This realization expanded my perception, and suddenly, everything around me bore the essence of a sword. The air I breathed, the chairs, and the very people around me, all could be viewed through the lens of Sword's Will.

"This revelation might take some time to fully grasp," I murmured, feeling the potential of my entire being as a conduit for Sword's Will. The crowd watched, a mix of awe and fear in their eyes, as I stood, a six-year-old with the power to redefine the very essence of their world.

"Cool... but I'm not really a sword guy," I declared casually, a statement that made the seasoned cultivators in the room tense with disbelief. Many had dedicated their lives to mastering the sword intent, and here I was, dismissing it with an offhand comment. Their faces contorted with a mix of awe and indignation, yet they were compelled to watch what happened next.

As I closed my eyes, visualizing the ideal weapon for my soul, the sharp, slicing aura of the sword began to morph. It thickened and pulsed, transforming into a force that exuded not sharpness, but overwhelming power, like a hammer's crushing might, yet balanced, more refined.

"Staff intent? How? He isn't even holding a staff!" someone exclaimed in disbelief, their voice cracking under the strain of envy and confusion. The cultivation world was strict and methodical; skills were honed through years of disciplined practice, not merely conjured with a thought.

"A freak," another whispered, echoing the silent consensus. From the crown prince to the elders of various sects and empires, the same thought reverberated through their minds as they witnessed the unfolding spectacle.

Reflecting on my innate abilities, I mused, "At the end of the day, this is born from my soul... so if I think about it, I should be able to shift from one will to another, right?" The air around me seemed to pulse with potential as I felt every object as a staff.

In the next moment, a more penetrating intent took hold, Arrow's will. This new intent locked onto everyone, instilling a sensation of being targeted by an unerring arrow, capable of piercing through any distance or defense.

Arrow's will allowed me to perceive everything as an arrow. Yet, I didn't stop there. Fist's will, Hammer's will, Spear's will, the list continued, each will flow into the next with a fluidity that stunned the seasoned practitioners around me. I experimented with each, transitioning seamlessly until a revolutionary idea struck me.

"I might be able to combine all of these wills into three techniques... Haki?" The concept felt strangely perfect, drawing inspiration from a technique I recalled from an anime called 'One Piece.' As I pondered, the parallels became increasingly clear.

Intent could negate durability, similar to Armament Haki's capabilities. It could enhance one's strength, and resilience, much like the anime's depiction of powering up a character.

Sword's will, and by extension, the wills of other weapons, allowed me to perceive the world around me through their essences. Staff, arrow, spear, enabling a deeper connection with my surroundings, akin to Observation Haki. While I couldn't see the future as the anime proposed, the potential for such an ability lingered on the horizon of possibility.

Lastly, the embodiment of all these wills reflected the strength of one's willpower, much like Conqueror's Haki. The potency of one's will determines the strength of their martial manifestation, both refined and amplified through combat.

As I stood there, the realization of how perfectly these concepts intertwined with my abilities washed over me, it seemed too perfect, too powerful. The room was silent, filled with cultivators who now looked upon a six-year-old with a mixture of fear and wonder, witnessing the birth of a new legend in the cultivation world... that is if I could live that long.